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Thursday, September 27, 2012

MAC August Winner

I apologize for the delay in getting the August winner posted. September has been an overwhelming month on many fronts. The August winner is Pamela Hill from Leesburg, Florida with her short story Translucent Wings.  Pamela has short stories, pulp fiction and poems published by Six Minute Magazine, Literary Juice, Ping Pong, An Art & Literary Journal of the Henry Miller Memorial Library, and Naturewriting, respectively.  Nailpolish Stories, A Tiny & Colorful Literary Journal, recently accepted her short, short story for publication in October.  She is currently working on a novella. Congratulations to Pamela, and we welcome her to Lyrical Pens. She has left us with an O. Henry ending if there ever was one. Enjoy.  Mahala

Translucent Wings
Pamela Hill

Gusts of wind flipped my umbrella inside out and pushed me toward the tower where my office was on the 18th floor. My secretary brought me a towel. “Grendel wants to see you.”

I wiped the rain from my things. “Let me dry off.”

She bit her lip, so I knew Grendel was yelling again. I tossed my keys on my desk and ran to the elevator, which carried me down to the first floor. Mr. Grendel sat behind his desk. “Our client’s name is misspelled on every document, Catherine. Incompetence is unacceptable.” When I turned to leave, he said, “another oversight like this …termination is imminent.”

Back in my office, my colleague, Daphne, sauntered in. “What happened downstairs?”

“Not much” I said and halfway smiled. Daphne’s demeanor betrayed a subterfuge of joy before she left.

My secretary rushed in. “Daphne did it. She accessed the documents through the network and made changes before I mailed them to the client.“ She bit her lip again. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“How did you find out?”

“Her secretary saw her do it.”

While I raged, a little green Lacewing alit upon the wall. If a Lacewing is attacked, it emits a foul odor and loses the beauty of translucent wings. “Control yourself,” Lacewing implied. “If you do, Daphne will fry.”

She did.

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